In keeping with my current life theme of “EVERYTHING IS BROKEN,” I’m pretty sure I broke one of my toes last week. I didn’t mention it here because I was already doing so much whining about our stove breaking. Also I figured if I wrote about it people might ask how it happened, and then I would have to admit that I drank too many Skinny Girl margaritas and then ran full-speed into the coffee table while sprinting to the kitchen to make a hot dog during an Olympics commercial break.
So yeah, my toe swelled up and turned all sorts of fun shades and it hurt pretty bad just to walk all week, which meant that running was out of the question. Then on top of not running all week, I ate a ton of microwave food and take out on account of OUR STOVE. IT WAS BROKEN, HAVE YOU HEARD? And then even though my toe felt better by Saturday, I spent all weekend like this because Desperate Housewives wasn’t going to binge watch itself:
I had yesterday off work and figured it was finally time to get my ass back in gear. I laced up my running shoes and was fully prepared to feel like crap the entire time, but instead I felt great and beat my current 5K record by over a minute. Running is so weird.
Also, here is the latest installment in our broken stove saga: Our new range was delivered on Saturday, so I decided to finally bake the red velvet brownies I had planned to make for Valentine’s Day. When I went to open the oven door to check on them, the door handle was scalding hot. Like, I had to use an oven mitt to open the door. That didn’t seem normal, so I called the Sears manager yesterday who confirmed that no, our oven door handle should not be giving us second degree burns. Now we’re waiting on a call from the service department.
I foresee more hot dogs in our future.